Artistic Tendencies
by April2
Summary: Ginny Weasley, artist-in-the-making. She's a Charms savant and tops the year level...yet is she crafted enough to charm her way into Harry's heart?


_Artistic Tendencies_

Harry stared out the window of the Gryffindor common room. The Hogwarts grounds were caked with coats of fresh glinting white snow. Above, gleaming snowflakes fell steadily against a backdrop of soft, muted whitish-pink. It _was_ rather pretty, but in Harry's current frame of mind, he hardly appreciated it. Harry glanced down at the fragment of yellowed parchment clutched in his hands. One might have thought he was mad, so anxious over a scrap of parchment. But the words jotted hastily in scarlet ink that lingered on the faded parchment meant far more to him than other people's opinions.   
Except, of course, for Ron's and Hermione's. That was why he was sitting in the common room waiting for them to return, and not dashing off to the kitchens, begging food from the house-elves as he ought to be. Harry glanced down at the quick scrawled note. 

_Harry—   
Next Saturday, you say? Right, then. I'll meet you there outside the Post Office. And don't try to convince me not to come; I'm already on my way.   
—S._

Harry was both thrilled and worried about seeing his godfather. However, the latter emotion squashed the former, and he wrung his hands together agitatedly. What if Sirius was caught? It was more than likely that that would happen, Harry knew. If he was…well, Harry didn't even want to venture into that line of thought. He glanced out the window again, bursting to leave. His heart jumped as he spotted a flash of bright red. Bright _Weasley_ red. Was it Ron? Too eager to bother checking further, Harry leaped to his feet and ran through the portrait hole, snatching up his scarlet winter cloak as he went.   
Once outside, Harry looked around fervently for Ron and Hermione. Had it even been them? He checked his watch and allowed himself a quick sigh of relief; it was half an hour till the group for Hogsmeade left. But he wanted to be early, just in case.   
He looked up again, and caught his breath. A faint blur of brilliant scarlet, very conspicuous against the pure white snow, was twirling towards him with great enthusiasm. As he or she waltzed closer to Harry, he could make the shape out as Ginny Weasley. Obviously she had been the flash of bright red he'd seen out the window.   
"Hallo, Ginny," he said, slightly disappointed. "Have you seen Ron?"   
At the sound of his voice, Ginny abruptly halted to a stop in mid-spin. "Harry!" she exclaimed, flustered. "I—I didn't see you." Her cheeks were coloring slightly.   
"Yes, I just came down a few moments ago," said Harry. Despite his mild irritation, he had to smile at Ginny's disconcerted surprise. "You're very good," he added.   
Ginny went even pinker. "Er, thank you," she managed to stumble out. "Dancing, you mean? Oh, I always do that—the snow is just so pretty, and it looks so inviting to play in. It makes me feel really free. So does my art. I love art, and everything about it. I've been painting since I was little, and—" Ginny suddenly cut off her trail of chatter, apparently astonished at herself.   
Harry remembered Ron telling him in the summer before second year that Ginny normally never shut up. His smile widened into an amused grin. He'd not believed Ron at the time. Now he did. "Go on, Ginny," he prompted. "Art, you said? What kind of art do you do?"   
Ginny blinked at him blankly. Then she seemed to come to life again all at once. A bright smile lit up her face and she began talking rapidly. "Oh, _everything_," she answered animatedly, her dark eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Percy always says it's a waste of time and it won't get me anywhere, but Mum's really wonderful about it. She's always proud of everything I do, even if it's horrid. What I really like doing is unicorns. I love unicorns—see this, I made it myself," and Ginny gently pulled a thin silver chain from her neck with a small, delicate clay unicorn hanging from it.   
Harry bent over to see it better. "It's lovely," he said in a tone of both surprise and admiration. He leaned over further for a better look, and flushed when he realized where his eyes were straying. Hastily he drew back.   
Ginny didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she said nothing of it. "I did love it when we studied unicorns in Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Grubbly-Plank in my third year," she continued blithely. "It's too bad that Hagrid came back—oh, not that I don't like Hagrid! I do, of course, he's wonderful. It's just that _honestly, _those beasts he brings to class—oh, I'm sorry!" Ginny interrupted herself. She smiled wryly. "I've been babbling on and on, haven't I? I do apologize, only I grew up that way—I had to, living with six older brothers! To get a word in edgewise, one has to be quite the chatterbox." She looked up at Harry, her brown eyes seeming to be laughing. "And here I am, still prattling on. I hope you're not terribly bored, listening to me babble."   
"Not at all," Harry replied truthfully. He'd actually been very entertained. He'd not ever thought that Ginny was such a vivacious sort of person. Apparently, she was. He rather enjoyed it, seeing such a spirited version of Ginny, as opposed to the little girl who squeaked and peeked at him from around corridors. He turned slightly to face away from the cutting bitter wind, and pulled his cloak around him more tightly.   
"Are you cold?" ventured Ginny. She smiled. "That's another reason why I love dancing in the snow. It warms me up, you see. I don't even feel the cold for a good ten minutes or so." She reached into her pocket for her wand. Pointing it at Harry, she murmured a quick incantation that he didn't quite catch.   
A bright silver ray of light shot from Ginny's wand and all at once, Harry was suffused in a muted golden glow. He was suddenly filled with warmth, as though he was standing in bright sunshine. "What was _that_?" asked Harry in surprise.   
Ginny smiled. "Heating Charm," she explained. She twirled her wand as if it was a baton. The slender stick of wood spun neatly in Ginny's hand; she tightened her grip to stop the rotation and slipped the wand back into her pocket. "Not to boast or anything, but I top my class in Charms." Ginny paused, and then laughed. "Oh, who am I kidding? I love boasting," she admitted. Her eyes danced in merriment, and her face seemed very small and porcelain with the fiery cascade of flame-red hair framing it.   
Despite her smug self-confidence, Harry chuckled. "Well, Miss Weasley," he said in amusement. "Dancing, art, Charms…really, what _aren't_ you good at?"   
"Transfiguration," Ginny answered decidedly. She shuddered. "Oooh, I hate Transfiguration. On my fourth-year exams I was supposed to turn a cat into a mouse, and instead I accidentally cast an Emotion Alleviation Charm on it."   
"What's that?" asked Harry curiously. He'd missed much of his fourth-year curriculum, due to the Triwizard Tournament.   
"Oh, it's a spell I made up myself in Arithmancy – with a lot of help from Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector, 'course – just a few weeks before my Transfiguration exam," explained Ginny. "It's supposed to transfer your primary emotions of the moment to whomever you're casting the charm on. It's very advanced, though." She smiled triumphantly. "I got bonus marks on Arithmancy and Charms for that charm."   
"That's wonderful for you, Ginny," said Harry a little distractedly, rather more interested in Ginny's apparently bad Transfiguration exam. "What happened with McGonagall, then?"   
Ginny affected a somber expression, but it was quickly ruined as Ginny suddenly broke into laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry," she gasped out in between giggles. She grasped Harry's arm to steady herself and held it for a few moments until her laughter finally subsided. "Right," said Ginny. She looked as though she wanted to laugh again in sheer delight. "Yes, well, I cast the Emotion Alleviation Charm on the cat. And of course, since I'm hopeless at Transfiguration, I was _hopping_ mad at McGonagall for setting such a difficult task."   
"Difficult?" repeated Harry, rather startled. Even he'd managed to admit that the topic of animal Transfiguration wasn't so bad in his fourth year, and he'd hardly studied at all because of the Tournament.   
Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, Harry, rub it in, why don't you?" she said, but her tone held no acid bite in it. "Didn't you hear me? I'm useless as a witch when it comes to Transfiguration." However, Ginny didn't seem to mind at all, as she looked quite content with this fact. "Anyhow, I was terribly mad at McGonagall right then. And of course with that charm, my feelings were transferred to the cat. So the cat decided to express its feelings by—by hopping on top of McGonagall's head and—er—relieving itself!" Ginny choked out, and then fell into a helpless fit of laughter. "Oh, dear, that's horrid of me, isn't it?" she gasped out. "Laughing like this…but you don't _mind, _do you Harry?"   
Harry did not answer her, unless one counted his amused laughs as a response to Ginny's question. "Oh…that's classic!" he said. "I can only imagine McGonagall's face. Did you get into trouble?"   
"This is _Professor McGonagall_ we're talking about, Harry!" exclaimed Ginny. "Of course I got into trouble. A good deal of it, too. Detention and thirty points from Gryffindor. But, oh, it was worth it!"   
"I should think so," agreed Harry. He shook his head, smiling. "So, do tell, Ginny. What else are you absolutely terrible at?"   
Ginny's mouth made a little O of surprise. "Harry!" she said. "So you want to know all of my _bad_ qualities? Now, that's what I call friendship!"   
"Not at all," protested Harry. "I quite like getting to know you, Miss Weasley. I'm…how should I put it? I'm _dissecting_ you."   
"_Dissecting_ me?" repeated Ginny, laughing. "I can only hope that you use the term 'dissect' as in 'scrutinize' and not 'hacking Ginny into tiny bits.' Now _that_ would be attractive. Aren't you quite the sweet-talker, Harry Potter."   
"Oh, right—just ask Parvati Patil," Harry said with a grin. "Actually, I _do_ want to find out your bad qualities. You're feeding me too many of your good ones. I'm going to start thinking you're completely perfect."   
"How do you know I'm not?" Ginny countered in an impish tone. At Harry's raised eyebrows, her mouth quirked up into an inevitable smile. "Alright, then, so I'm not. I do have my share of bad qualities. Especially flying. I'm possibly the worst flier Hogwarts has ever seen."   
"Oh, surely not!" objected Harry. "I think that honor goes to Millicent Bulstrode. Did you see her trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team?" He and Ginny looked at each for a moment, then they both laughed. "You do like Quidditch at least, don't you?" he added suddenly. He fixed his eyes on her inquisitively.   
Ginny face turned a whole new shade of red previously unknown to mankind. "Er…" she hedged.   
Harry couldn't help but be shocked. _"Ginny!_"   
"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Ginny. "It's just that Quidditch doesn't…_interest_ me. I'm sure it's all very exciting and electrifying and everything, but—but—" She broke off, throwing her arms out in helpless defeat. "It—it just doesn't pique my interest," she finished lamely.   
After having gotten over his initial astonishment that someone could have any feelings other than pure love for Quidditch, Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "Tsk, Ginny. Don't sugarcoat it. Where's that famous Weasley spirit? Tell me how you _really_ feel," he teased.   
Ginny smirked at him in a way that strangely reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy, only a much more delicate and feminine version, of course. "Are you _sure_ you want to know my real feelings for the game?" she ventured.   
"Oh, very," nodded Harry, assuming a solemn expression.   
"Very sure?"   
"I should think I am. Ginny, do hurry up already."   
"All right." Ginny took a deep breath and then burst out into an explosion of Quidditch-downplaying. "I think Quidditch is the most insanely boring sport ever, worse than watching bananas turn brown. I'd not even go to the school games if it weren't for Ron nagging me to come watch him all the time. I was horribly disappointed when Ron made the team, because that meant I'd have to listen to even more Quidditch talk. Whenever we go to the Quidditch Cup the only reason I let myself be dragged along is because I love Mum, and she needs some quiet time without us banging 'round. At the last Quidditch Cup we went to I wanted to stay in the tent but Fred and George wouldn't let me, and the only reason I stayed in the stands watching was because Aidan Lynch couldn't be less hard on the eyes."   
Harry stared at her in complete astonishment. He was utterly rendered speechless. "Oh," he finally squeaked out. "Right."   
Ginny grinned at him. "Well, you did want to know how I honestly feel about Quidditch," she pointed out mischievously, rubbing her hands together in hope of stimulating warmth. She frowned. "Say, it _is_ rather cold, isn't it? Better warm myself up." She pointed her wand at herself and muttered a quick Heating Charm. Bright light shot from the tip of her wand and the moment it hit her Ginny was immersed in a soft golden light, just as Harry still was. She sighed. "Oh, that's so much better."   
"It is," agreed Harry, before he could help himself. He froze. _Did I just say that?_   
Ginny appeared stunned as well. She stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment for a second or two. Then Ginny laughed, breaking the awkward silence. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. The golden glow of the Heating Charm deepened her usually bright scarlet hair to a more subdued wine-red mixed with soft gold. This brightened her dark brown eyes even more, making them look far too large for her pale face sprinkled with freckles. The shape of her body was clearly outlined with a glimmering whitish-gold illumination, as was her hair. But it wasn't a bad effect at all, thought Harry, but made her look actually quite pretty. "Thanks, Harry," said Ginny brightly. "I'm glad you appreciate the beauty of Heating Charms."   
Harry nearly choked. Was it him, or did she place a soft emphasis on _beauty?_ Did that statement have a double meaning?   
"Ron!" Ginny yelled suddenly. She was facing away from Harry now. Her body was angled towards the direction of the lake, and she seemed to be waving madly at someone. "Ron! Hermione!" shouted Ginny.   
Harry turned to face the lake as well, and immediately spotted two very familiar Hogwarts students striding towards he and Ginny. One was easily recognizable by his vivid red hair the same startling shade as Ginny's, and the other also by her hair, but her hair was distinguished by a bouncy, curling tangle of brown piled all over her head. "Ron, Hermione!" he called, relieved to see his two best friends back at last. He glanced at Ginny. "See you later, Ginny," he said as he started towards Ron and Hermione.   
"Mm-hm," she answered distractedly, brushing impatiently at the snowflakes that had caught in her long hair.   
Harry wanted dearly to say something witty and intelligent, but since all that came to mind was a very stupid "I'm glad Professor Flitwick taught you Heating Charms," he simply waved and started jogging to reach Ron and Hermione.   
_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he cursed himself. 

******** 

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," moaned Ginny into her pillow. She was sprawled on her bed in her dormitory, her face buried in her pillow. How could she possibly have been such an absolute idiot? It was her blasted tongue that was the problem. Once she started talking, she could rarely shut up.   
"Ginny!" wailed Roséline Toussaint as she slammed the door of her wardrobe shut with a loud _bang!_ "Have you seen my Potions assignment? I need to finish it today, or that wretched git will fail me."   
Ginny lifted her head from her pillow to turn an incredulous eye on her friend. "And you looked for it in your _wardrobe?"_ she demanded in disbelief.   
From her spot lounging on the window seat, Natalia O'Brien grinned at Ginny. "She's looked for it _everywhere,"_ said Natalia. "She even checked in my sweets stash under my bed. And I think she stole some Chocolate Frogs while she was at it," added Natalia, throwing Roséline a look of exasperated amusement.   
"Well, I've not seen it," said Ginny, and went back to feeling sorry for herself. Why had she not been born with the wonderful gifts of tact and finesse? "I'm glad you appreciate the beauty of Heating Charms," Ginny mimicked herself in a shrill, high-pitched voice lined with admiring devotion.   
"What was that, Ginny?" Roséline tilted her head in Ginny's direction.   
"Never mind," sighed Ginny, shaking her head.   
"Don't give me that!" said Roséline, opening her hazel eyes very wide in what might have been indignation. "What is it? I can help." There was a very loud coughing fit from Natalia's direction. Roséline glared. "Natalia, that'd better be you dying of pneumonia, or I'll give you a good kick up—"   
"Who, me?" asked Natalia in a tone of mock innocence. She turned from the window and fixated her very large emerald eyes on Ginny's own brown ones. "All right, Gin. What's wrong?" prompted Natalia as she got up and went over to flop down next to Roséline.   
Ginny groaned loudly and rolled over on her bed so she was lying down on her stomach. "Okay. Imagine you're a sixteen-year-old boy," she began.   
"Okay, never mind. Perhaps Natalia's right, I can't help," said Roséline quickly, moving as to get up. A fierce glare from Natalia caused her to pause, and a swift kick to the shins made her sit back down hastily. _"Ouch!_ You should try out for Beater, Natalia, if your swing is anything like your kick." Roséline shut up hurriedly as Natalia's eyes darkened. "Never mind! Go on, Ginny."   
"Imagine you're a sixteen year old boy," Ginny repeated patiently, "and when you walk outside a girl who's had a crush on you for five straight years is dancing like a maniac in the snow and nearly twirls right into you." At this point Natalia and Roséline exchanged knowing looks, but Ginny chose to ignore this. "And then she starts chattering on and on about nothing whatsoever, not letting you get a word in edgewise. Then she proceeds to put a Heating Charm on you without asking you if you want one beforehand and brags that she's top of class in Charms. Next, she insults the Head of House and mocks you. After that, she insults your favorite sport and says she only watches the sport because she happens to fancy one of the players. She then makes a completely ridiculous comment on the beauty of Heating Charms. And when you finally see sense and turn to leave, she's more preoccupied with her hair than she is in saying goodbye. What would _you_ think?"   
Roséline and Natalia glanced at each other anxiously. "Well," began Natalia uncertainly, "I'd think that you'd been listening to Fwooper song if you did all that to Harry. No offense intended, Ginny," she hastened to add.   
"Me?" exclaimed Ginny. "Harry? How—what—was I that—_argh!"_ she groaned. "I _am_ that obvious, aren't I?"   
"Er," stalled Roséline.   
"Um," hedged Natalia.   
"Very," they both admitted in unison.   
Ginny proceeded to spend the next few moments cursing hotly under her breath. She was faintly surprised at how much she exactly knew, then realized that that was hardly surprising, with six older brothers. She went on in great length and much detail.   
"That was very good imagery," Natalia offered helpfully when she was done. "I did like the bit about the cauldron stirrer."   
"Yes," chipped in Roséline. "You know, assuming that you could actually get it to fit so far up—"   
"Thank you," said Ginny, cutting Roséline off. "Wonderful. The only triumph I can get is in my talent for creative cursing. That makes me feel so much better." She sighed. "I don't think I'm up for anything but time with me and my sketchbook."   
"Right, then," said Roséline supportively, "we'll make sure no one comes in!" She didn't move. Neither did Natalia.   
"_I don't think I'm up for anything but time with me and my sketchbook,_" repeated Ginny, enunciating each word clearly.   
"Oh!" said Natalia, very loudly, and she grabbed Roséline 's arm and dragged her out of the dormitory.   
Once alone, Ginny leaned over and extracted her sketchbook and pencil from her night table. She straightened up and rested her back against the bed frame, the sketchbook in her lap. Ginny flipped it open to the first page. A large sketch of Harry on his Firebolt done in pencil dominated the page. She turned the page to the next drawing. It was yet another illustration of Harry. It was in black ink and featured his profile. The only color on the page was the intense, vivid emerald green of his eye.   
Ginny groaned softly and slammed the sketchbook shut firmly. _Face it, Weasley,_ she told herself. _Harry Potter dominates your life. Even if he doesn't even know it. And the one time he seemed interested in what you had to say, you ruined it._ She sighed and poked listlessly at the limp curling strand of hair hanging by her face.   
"Ginny!" Natalia burst into the girls' dormitory, her face unusually flushed and her green eyes strangely bright. Roséline was close behind, her light brown hair whirling round her pale face wildly.   
Ginny blinked in surprise. "Natalia, Roséline, I thought I told you that—"   
"Yes, yes, you want time to recuperate after a humiliating incident with Harry and all, but come outside!" said Roséline quickly, cutting Ginny off. Ginny narrowed her eyes, and Natalia rolled hers. Roséline had never been one for tact.   
Wearily Ginny pulled herself off her bed and stood up. She arched an eyebrow in an inquisitive manner. "Well? What is it, Rose?"   
In response, Roséline grasped Ginny's sleeve and pulled her in the direction of the door. "Hey! _Roséline!"_ cried Ginny in protest. "You know, it's terribly impolite to drag your friends like this." She yanked her arm out of Roséline 's sound grip and frowned. "What on earth is going on?"   
"_I_ can explain." Ginny twisted around to see Natalia standing in front of the window at the back of the dormitory, her expression reflecting amusement and wryness. The light streaming through the window lit up the outline of her figure, making her look strangely ethereal. Natalia strode forward and patted Ginny's arm. "Don't mind Roséline, Gin. She's been at the butterbeer again." Natalia ignored Roséline 's indignant "Hey!" and continued, "She's been celebrating her achievement of nine O.W.L.S., you see."   
Ginny started in surprise. "The O.W.L. results are finally up?" she exclaimed excitedly. Due to a delay in transferring the Hogwarts fifth-year O.W.L. results from the Magical Education Department to the Ministry of Magic, they hadn't been able to receive their exam results over the summer as per usual but had been forced to wait until the new school year. Anticipation had been buzzing in the sixth-year girls' dormitory since the beginning of the new year, then had died down as months passed and the results still did not arrive. Right now, however, the feeling of zeal and apprehension was definitely present once again.   
Natalia's lips twisted up into a grin that quickly spread to her eyes, which sparkled. "Yes, they're up!" said Natalia, altogether losing her composed manner and falling into the state of thrilled triumph that seemed to have swallowed up Roséline. "And, oh, Ginny, you received—"   
"Don't tell me!" interrupted Ginny hastily. "I want to see it for myself."   
"All right," conceded Natalia, seemingly in too good a mood to disagree with Ginny about anything whatsoever. "The O.W.L. results are on the second floor—Charms corridor."   
Ginny thanked her friend and dashed off hurriedly, expectation and enthusiasm mixed together inside of her. She hoped that she had done well, but she knew that it was just as likely that she had accomplished almost nothing, even taking into account all the late night study sessions with Natalia, Roséline and Anica Duscas. She clattered down a staircase leading down to the second floor and turned the corner at a ne ar run, skidding to a halt in the middle of the Charms corridor. A small knot of buzzing sixth-years were crowded around two long scrolls of parchment tacked to the wall at the end of the hall. Twisting her hands together nervously, Ginny made her way down the corridor and settled herself directly in front of the scrolls of parchments. She closed her eyes briefly and with her hands clasped, murmured a little prayer.   
Then Ginny opened her eyes and scanned the list, searching for her name. Her eyes skimmed past _Victoria Viance – Slytherin_ in emerald green ink and _Adam Walton – Ravenclaw_ in blue to light on her own name, written in flowing scarlet script. _Virginia Weasley – Gryffindor. Swallowing hard, Ginny tapped her wand to the crimson words, and a small roll of parchment fell into her trembling hands. She squeezed out of the crowd and rushed down the hall to a quieter spot, clutching the parchment so hard that her knuckles were white. Once she had somewhat regained her composure, she loosened her grip and unrolled the parchment. 

__****_

Magical Education Department   
Ordinary Wizarding Levels   
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry   
Gryffindor   
Virginia Weasley   


Regular Subjects __

Transfiguration: ——   
Total: 0 O.W.L.s   
**Astronomy:** Beginner; Intermediate; Advanced   
Total: 3 O.W.L.s   
**Herbology:** Beginner   
Total: 1 O.W.L.   
**History of Magic:** ——   
Total: 0 O.W.L.s   
**Charms:** Beginner; Intermediate; Advanced   
Total: 3 O.W.L.s   
**Defense Against the Dark Arts:** Beginner; Intermediate   
Total: 2 O.W.L.s   
**Potions:** ——   
Total: 0 O.W.L.s 

**Elective Subjects __**

Arithmancy: Beginner; Intermediate; Advanced   
Total: 3 O.W.L.s   
**Care of Magical Creatures:** Beginner   
Total: 1 O.W.L.   
**Divination:** ——   
Total: 0 O.W.L.s   
**Medical Magic:** Beginner   
Total: 1 O.W.L. 

**Full Total:**   
**_Fourteen (14)_** Ordinary Wizarding Levels   


Ginny's mouth fell open, and she screamed.   
"Miss Weasley!" Little Professor Flitwick was hurrying towards her, looking concerned. "Are you all right?"   
Ginny shook herself out of her astonished stupor. "Oh—yes, I'm quite fine, Professor—it's just—it's just that I've gotten my O.W.L. results!" Ginny burst out, her response coming out in an ecstatic tangle of words.   
"Ah, yes." Professor Flitwick's worried face relaxed into a smile of amusement. "Well done, Miss Weasley. You excelled yet again in the field of Charms. It's lovely, to see such a bright, brilliant young Charms student. Thirteen O.W.L.s, wasn't it?"   
"Fourteen!" corrected Ginny, too keyed up to even blush at Professor Flitwick's lavish compliments. "Fourteen O.W.L.s – oh, Professor, thank you so much for the Charms O.W.L.s. I honestly can't believe that I got fourteen—fourteen—O.W.L.s!" Somewhere in the back of her mind Ginny was faintly aware that she was babbling, but she couldn't get herself to shut up, nor did she want to. She was sure that it wasn't possible to be so very happy, and her ecstasy was pouring out in words.   
"Well, you should," smiled Professor Flitwick. "You're a very intelligent student, Miss Weasley, albeit a little flighty at times. Work hard and you could become something great. You know your subject well, and that's why you accomplish so much." With those words and a nod, he ambled off, presumably to congratulate more delighted sixth-years.   
Ginny leaned back against the wall, reading the words on the parchment over and over. At that moment, she felt that she could do anything in the world: including becoming friends (and possibly something more) with Harry Potter. After all, hadn't Flitwick said that she accomplished so much because she knew her subject so well? Well, if there was one thing in the world she knew most of, it was Harry Potter. She looked down at the parchment again, and envisioned another subject at the end of the list. **__**

Study of Harry Potter: Beginner; Intermediate; Advanced   
Total: 3 O.W.L.s 

With a little smile on her face and a hint of a skip in her step, Ginny turned and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.   



End file.
